


sitting next to this gun beats your heart in your mouth

by orphan_account



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Eating Disorders, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, POV Alternating, POV Multiple, Psychological Trauma, Trans Allison Reynolds, Trans Female Character, also everyones gay, also noah isn't a ghost, blue and noah are roommates, just a bunch of idiots who play exy, no magic or cabeswater or psychics or anything
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:27:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23888950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: it's the raven boys' senior year at aglionby, and ronan lynch was ready to fade into obscurity. drink his liver to destruction, subside on stolen glances of dirt-stained skin. but fate seems to have other plans. ronan was approached by david wymack, coach of the palmetto state foxes, and was offered to chance to play with them (henry, adam, gansey, noah, and blue included). will they manage to work with a team that's already bursting at the seams? or will everything crash and burn?
Relationships: Allison Reynolds/Renee Walker (All For The Game), Jeremy Knox/Jean Moreau, Katelyn/Aaron Minyard, Kevin Day/Thea Muldani, Matt Boyd/Danielle "Dan" Wilds, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Nicky Hemmick/Erik Klose, Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 36
Kudos: 104





	1. therapy isn't free, but college apparently is?

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! this is my first aftg/trc fanfic, so i'm a little nervous about posting it, but oh well! please check the tags for all the content warnings, and please tell me if i missed anything!! i hope you enjoy this!!

ronan lynch was tired of being put into boxes. he was so fucking tired of it. he was tired of people assuming that he was dangerous, just because of his tattoos and his shaved hair and his smile that he wore like a knife. he was tired of people assuming that he was damaged, just because there was no father listed on his emergency contact sheet and his brothers were the only family he had. he was tired of people assuming he was unstable, just because of the spiderwebs lining his wrists and the taste of prescription chalk that lined his tongue. all of those things were true. but it didn't mean they should be assumed. ronan lynch was a complicated thing, and one glance sure as hell didn't tell you a thing about him.

so when a dark-haired man cornered him in the empty locker room, eyeing him like a piece of meat, or an interesting puzzle to be solved, ronan's perpetually raised hackles shot to the roof.

"what the fuck do you want?" he spat, arms crossed and eyes slitted. to his credit, the older man didn't look fazed, and slid a small manilla folder towards him.

"you're ronan lynch, huh?" the man said, not waiting for a response. "i've heard a lot about you. your record speaks for itself. and i assume you know who i am?"

feeling awfully exposed, ronan shook his head. "i don't know who you are, or why the hell you're here."

"i'm david wymack. i'm the coach of the palmetto state foxes. and i'm here to offer you a position on our team."

the laugh that spilled out of ronan's lips wasn't humorous. it wasn't kind or excited. it was a sharp and vicious thing, a poisonous vine studded with thorns that slid out of his throat. it was violent and dangerous, and it was the most honest part of ronan that wymack had seen.

"you have to be joking. you want me on your steaming pile of shit that you call a team? just because i'm another reject from the island of misfit toys doesn't mean i want in on that trainwreck. no thanks."

wymack rolled his eyes, dramatic yet understated at the same time. "look, this doesn't have to be difficult. we'll give you a full ride. just sign the goddamn forms."

ronan fixed the man with a dark gaze, the dagger-like swirls of his tattoos driving the look home. "do i need to repeat myself? i'm not interested. you bribing me won't change that."

"i think you should reconsider," a cool voice said, creeping out from  
behind the lockers. a mess of blonde hair joined the voice, and the sharp face of a minyard slid into view. at first, ronan wasn't sure which one. but the auburn man standing next to him cemented that it was andrew. the most volatile and least burdened with a conscience of the two.

"oh wow," ronan snarked, "you've really pulled out the big guns. is minyard gonna stab me if i don't sign with you or something?"

"or something," andrew said, his eyes crawling over ronan's form like spiders. it was unsettling, but ronan refused to be afraid. andrew minyard was nothing. he'd dealt with worse.

neil josten sighed, running a scarred hand through his hair. "look, lynch, it's not that difficult. we want you on our team. you're a good enough striker. you tick the trauma box. just put your ego in a box and soothe it later. sign the form."

andrew's face lit with the ghost of a smile, something inherently disturbing and twisted. "we'll even sign your little group if you just say yes." 

ronan tilted his head slightly, more intrigued than he wanted to admit. "you're adding six more people to the roster?" 

neil responded with a lazy shrug. "it wasn't ideal, but after last year, we need substitutes. and henrietta isn't the worst place to find players, even if it's a little shithole masquerading as a town." ronan almost bristled, even though he agreed. he was spending too much time with blue, apparently. "even though we're not usually in the business of recruiting prep school kids, you, cheng, czerny, gansey, and parrish all come from the same school, which makes things even easier," neil added. 

"and what about sargent?" ronan shot back. the little maggot deserved a shot just as much as the rest of them. god knows she'd been through just as much.

andrew rolled his eyes. “yes, yes, we're asking her as well. did we accidentally wander into the theatre classroom, or will you just sign the forms already?”

something tensed in ronan’s expression. “i'll think about it. when do you need an answer?”

neil rolled his eyes with the air of someone much too important to bother with this, but wymack handed him the folder with what could almost be described as a smile. “we’ll be in town until sunday. drop the forms off at the henrietta bed and breakfast when you're ready.”

ronan snatched the folder and turned back to his locker. “fine, whatever. now can i change or will y'all stay in here until i pledge allegiance to your stupid cult?”

andrew scoffed, but ronan didn't need to turn around to hear the three sets of footsteps gently thudding across the tiled floors. with a sigh that was more relieved than he realized, ronan carefully took off his sweat-soaked clothes and slipped into the shower. the hot water helped numb his thoughts, and by the time he was finished, the exhaustion and exhilaration from the game all but washed away the thoughts of palmetto. 

but that night, bagpipes and swirling vocals filling his ears, his thoughts were racing. neither adam, noah, or gansey had mentioned wymack speaking to them. he wondered if it was a lie, that they would all be asked. but something told him otherwise. he'd have to talk to them about it. he'd have to ask adam. but not yet. not tonight. tonight he was going to tune out his thoughts, and let the crash of exy balls against plexiglass pull him into a memory-studded sleep.


	2. just in: angry feminist hates men!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am strangely motivated at the moment, so i'll keep churning out chapters, but i'm not sure how long this energy is gonna last tbh. so future chapters will probably not be so frequent. i hope this is okay though! it's a bit of a filler chapter, because i REALLY wanna write the "meet the new recruits" chapter, but i thought it'd be best to write out something resolving last chapter a little. also, all of my thanks to @chesscakes, my magnificent proofreader! she's wonderful and literally helps me with everything i wrote. she's the content control for this (a.k.a. the reason the first chapter was not simply "ronan is gay and sad. yeehaw"), and i adore her. anyway! enjoy!

noah czerny was just about every bit ordinary. from the short blond hair that fell into his eyes, and the plain, greyscale shirts he wore, to the softly worn sneakers at his feet. noah was almost invisible, easily forgotten, the kind of person who could slip into the shadows on even the most sunny of days. that is, of course, ignoring the vicious scar that sliced his face in half.

it was awful, really. at first, you could overlook it. it was just a dark smudge on his face. maybe a birthmark, or a trick of the light. but once you focused, got close enough to pay attention, it was on full display, demanding your attention and fixing it to his cheek. you could see the bruising, a sickly yellow-purple, that never seemed to fade. the faint scratches around the edges, silvery and just quite there. the crumpled remnants of a cheekbone that were forced back into something vaguely human, but not quite. 

noah was unremarkable, for the most part. so when he was singled out for anything, it made him nervous. and noah was already a quite nervous person, so this meant his stress was rising to a fever pitch. which was never good.

when the doorbell rang at his apartment, noah almost jumped. no one rang the doorbell. they either unlocked the door with their own set of keys, or they didn't show up. he eyed it nervously before starting towards it, but blue had already run to see who it was.

opening the door, they saw an unfamiliar man standing out front. cropped hair, fiery tattoos, hard eyes. she made to close the door, but the man put out a hand to stop her. “hold on, would you? i'm coach wymack, from palmetto state. i head the exy team.”

blue and noah exchanged confused looks, but both seemed comfortable enough with him, so blue shrugged and said, “close the door behind you.”

they led him to what could pass as a living him. a shitty threadbare couch, orange and purple bean bags, an upside-down plastic bin as a coffee table, and assorted pillows, none of which matched. blue flopped on the couch, and noah curled up on one of the beanbags. the man looked a little uncomfortable, but settled himself down on a beanbag.

“what exactly do you want?” blue asked, hazel eyes narrowed. “both of us know we're not spectacular exy players. so why are you here?”

wymack slid two folders onto the makeshift coffee table, both titled messily with their respective names. “i'm here to offer you a spot on our team. i would have assumed that was obvious.”

blue rolled her eyes, gearing up for a scathing remark, but noah interjected before she had the chance, eyes tight with caution. “like blue said. we're not college-level players. what are you really here for?”

the coach tilted his head slightly, confusion sliding onto his face. “i'm here for palmetto state.” when neither of them moved, he added, “the palmetto state foxes,” with emphasis.

recognition dawning on his face, noah turned to blue. of course. how could they have missed it? the foxes were notorious for their shambles of a team. every athlete came from a broken home, they were abused, they were drug addicts. they all had some dark origin story. noah and blue shouldn’t have been surprised that they'd be on the radar. but knowing your issues, and having someone else know them too, are violently different things.

blue crossed her arms, a weak attempt at hiding how exposed she felt. noah could see it, clear as day. he desperately hoped wymack couldn't. blue was a sensible thing, but even she was fragile. someone else picking her apart was the best way to find out every break and fracture, and to watch as every wall she put up came smashing down.

“i assume you’ve already asked everyone else?” she just said, more question than it seemed. by everyone else, she meant their friends. ronan lynch, adam parrish, henry cheng, richard gansey iii. they never did anything without each other, or so it appeared. and they all had some sad, miserable thing about them, patched up with cheap tape and torn nets of exy rackets. it was no surprise to know that they had all been selected as part of this therapist’s worst nightmare.

wymack nodded. “all of them. now, can we skip the theatrics and just sign the damn forms?”

blue turned to noah, a thousand words filling the space between them. they were close like that. never needed to say anything, but they understood each other all the same. after a long minute, noah nodded. blue pulled a pen out of her dark curls and flipped open the folder with her name on it. the felted tip squealed across paper as she wrote her name, declaring in bright purple that she was, in fact, blue sargent. noah pulled a nondescript ballpoint pen out of his pocket, a shaky and spidery scrawl signing away the next five years to his life. they both handed the folders back to wymack, and for just a moment, noah felt an inexplicable feeling of loss. but with the next inhale, it was gone. a phantom of a pain.

the man nodded once and stood, the contracts held tight in his hands. “we’ll see you all in south carolina on june ninth.” the two looked at him, and wymack turned and let himself out. they waited for the quiet thud of the door before they spoke.

blue was first, anger seeping out of her pores. “why the fuck didn't they tell us? if we're all going to the same college, why didn't they even mention it? i thought adam and gansey were on the goddamn ivy track. i can't believe them.”

noah shrugged helplessly, but he slid a phone out of his pocket as she ranted, not needing an audience to respond to her frustration. “gansey,” he said slowly, not wanting to unleash blue onto the unsuspecting members of their friend group. “wymack was here. we should talk. get everyone and meet us at the apartment?” 

**********

everyone had arrived at the tiny, cramped apartment, but it was just as silent as it had been before they came. tension was thick and heavy, beating down on them harder than the virginia heat. ronan and adam had claimed the couch, slightly apart, but their hands were held tight, a small indicator of the stress in the room. noah and blue shared a bean bag, the boy’s long, pale fingers tangled in blue’s hair. gansey had the chair, his hands folded in his lap, but his jaw was clenched. henry was the only one who seemed unbothered, curled up in a violently orange bean bag.

for a minute, no one spoke. then noah did. he opened his mouth, closed it, as if he was reconsidering his words. finally, he said quietly, “why didn't anyone say something?”

adam looked at him first, blue eyes on gray. “would you? when you get approached by the team that picks the most broken players they can find, is that something you want to celebrate?”

blue’s gaze sobered a little. “fine. but why didn't you even mention it? they must've told you we'd all be asked. the topic would come up eventually. why not cut to the chase?” she knew she was pushing, perhaps too hard, because gansey’s face went dark.

“cut it out, blue,” he said tiredly. “psychoanalysis from a sports coach is jarring at the best of times. we all needed time to process.”

“oh, we? so you, henry, adam and ronan talked all about this?” she spat, mouth curling into an unfamiliar sneer.

“yeah, we did. is that an issue? you know, we do go to the same school. we have a little bit more of an opportunity to chat,” ronan drawled. the spikes and daggers of his tattoos seemed to sharpen, as if shifting with his mood.

“fuck off,” blue shot back, arms crossed over her chest. something was building in her, bright and painful, like a blister. she'd flown too close to the sun, and gotten burnt, and everything was rising to the top, until it burst out of her like fire. “this wasn't easy for any of us, jackass. i didn’t ask for some ‘mother teresa’ to show up and solve all of my problems. but we're friends. we should've talked about this. because that's what friends do.”

a voice softly rose out of the silence. “i'm sorry, blue,” adam said. “you're right. we should’ve said something.” he took a deep breath, as if he was trying his best to play mediator. “but this was embarrassing, and it all brought up things we’re trying our best to bury. cut us a little slack, maybe?”

“fine,” blue sighed. she really never could stay angry for long. everyone else seemed relieved, as if blue and adam were the only two involved, and everyone else a spectator. “now get your asses off my couch and do something useful.”

ronan lazily kicked his shoe in blue’s direction, a slow grin sliding onto his face. the brunette’s eyes widened in mock fury, and she lobbed it right back at him, hitting him squarely in the chest. before it could escalate, henry grabbed the shoe and held onto it, shooting a wink at blue. gansey fixed them all with a theatrically disappointed gaze. “can we not behave like children? after all, we’re ‘college athletes’ now.”

watching them all bicker, noah smiled. even though everything was still fresh and new, even though they were all just a bit too fragile and aching, they would be okay. he just hoped that the chaos of palmetto wouldn't shatter all of the composure they'd built. it was a risk, sure, but they were used to risk. it was how they'd survived for so long. they hung on by their fingertips and held every chance close to their chest. they were fighters. they would be okay.


	3. henry cheng terrorizes the raven gang (and simps for andrew)

blue sargent didn't like driving. and she did her best to make that clear. explicitly clear. she detested driving, absolutely despised it. it was an amalgamation of all the things she hated. she hated the feeling of being trapped, of being penned in on all sides and unable to move. she hated the sounds, the loud honking, the skidding of tires, and the ridiculous music tearing out of cracked windows that somehow, people seemed to think everyone else wanted to hear. and she especially hated how powerless she felt. she was placing her life in the hands of a 4,000 pound metal cage, a death trap that could collapse on her and bury her alive, or wrap it’s chrome fingers around her throat and choke her, or-

“earth to blue,” noah said softly, nudging her with his shoulder. the thin material of his dusky sweater was a grounding touch, a rope she could grab on to and use to climb out of her mind. she accepted it gratefully and hung on tight, a weak smile washing over her.

“i'm fine,” she said, even though she knew noah didn't believe her. fixing her eyes on the road, she asked, “how much longer? if i have to spend another minute in this panic machine, i might actually wreck it.”

noah made a sad sound, a sort of low, worried hum, and placed his hand on her knee. “we're almost there. twenty minutes. do you need to pull over? i can drive if this is too much for you.” 

“i can drive for another twenty minutes, dumbass,” blue grumbled, but her tone was lacking any true bite. “what you can do, though, is check on henry. is he dead back there?”

noah turned around in his seat, but the third occupant of the car was already listening, and waved cheerfully at his friend. “not dead! although with your driving it was touch-and-go for a while. regardless, i'm too pretty to die,” he grinned, running a hand through his spiky black hair, “the world wouldn't last without my devilish charm and wit.”

blue rolled her eyes, and noah let out a mournful and distressed moan. “god, get me out of this car,” he pleaded to an unknown savior. sadly, his prayers went unanswered. 

in response, henry smirked, his dark eyes glinting with the kind of excitement that only accompanies a truly crude and awful joke. “there aren't any gods here, bitch boy. just this fat and juicy ass!”

“enough!” blue yelled, swerving slightly as she tried to glare at henry through the rearview mirror. “i will actually crash the car, and it will be all your fault. shut your trap.” henry raised his arms helplessly, as if to say “it wasn't me,” but noah shot him a dirty look and he settled down.

after a few hairpin turns that left all three of the occupants unsettled, they arrived at the palmetto state university dorms. blue was more than a little relieved to see the pig pulling in right behind them. strength in numbers, she thought bleakly. she was not excited for this meeting. 

as she unbuckled her seatbelt, noah seemed to sense her fear. he gently cupped his hands around her face. “it's gonna be alright, blue. if anyone says something mean, i'll… i'll punch them, okay?”

henry snickered in the backseat. “this is a touchy-feely moment or whatever, but come on, noah. you cry whenever gansey steps on bugs. you couldn't punch someone.” with that, he got out of the car and stepped up to the driver's door, pulling it open with a dramatic and grandiose air. henry tugged blue to her feet by her wrists and gave her a fierce hug.

the taller boy leaned down a little, and it appeared as if he were offering some kind words, but in fact, he had purposely positioned himself, right at optimal annoyance range. with a stoic expression, he sang, “squash one, squash two, squash three!” directly into her unsuspecting ear. 

with a squeal, she squirmed out of his arms. “you're a bastard, henry cheng,” she shot back, but her stress had all but vanished. blue slid him a grateful smile, and he smiled back, before running over to noah to bother him by ruffling his hair.

“thank fuck you're all still alive,” a voice called out from across the lot. “i was afraid sargent would kill you all.” adam had a soft grin on his face, all southern charm and wildflower honey. 

blue muttered something unintelligible, but walked over to adam to give him a grumpy hug. “nice to see you too, asshole,” she groused.

ronan and gansey joined adam and blue in front of the pig, and gansey shot blue a sweet, shy smile, the one he reserved just for her. blue grinned back, while ronan made vomiting noises until adam elbowed him to stop.

“can you two get a room?” henry chimed in, a shit-eating grin on his own face. noah just sighed and shook his head.

gansey was about to say something, but cut himself off. a shadow passed over his face, and suddenly, president cell phone appeared. blue blood, old money, and silk ties glittered in his expression, and while blue was used to it, that didn't mean she hated it any less. she followed his gaze, and locked eyes with someone, which was in and of itself surprising, seeing as she was the height of a small sixth grader. what was more surprising was the disheveled blond hair, striking hazel eyes, and the musky, sweet scent of tobacco that greeted her.

so this was the famous andrew minyard. he wasn't much to look at, honestly. short and stocky, with dark armbands curling up his wrists. his stature suggested venom, but his expression was bored, as if he was violently disinterested in this entire meeting. but the fact that he had shown up to greet them meant something. blue just wasn't sure what, exactly.

gansey cleared his throat, and stuck out his hand. “i'm gansey. this is ronan, adam, blue, noah, and henry, respectively. we're all pleased to meet you.”

andrew gazed at gansey’s hand in cool disinterest, then shook it quickly. andrew’s hands, she noticed, were painted with chipped lavender polish. she didn't know what to think of that. it seemed at odds with everything else about him.

“i'm andrew,” he said coolly. “the rest of the foxes aren't here yet, so i thought i'd check out the fresh meat.” ronan’s eyebrow arched high above his eye, but adam noticed and gave him a sharp elbow to the side. “looks like we’ll have our work cut out for us,” andrew added, with a glance at the two. “attitude problems tend to be neil’s specialty.”

“specialty as in he has them, or he deals with them?” adam queried, his hands shoved into the pockets of his khakis. he looked nervous, but only they could notice the small shifts and micro expressions that painted the elegant ridges of his face. 

blue could've sworn that andrew’s face moved, but when she blinked, it was back to the same disinterested expression. “both,” he said, seeming even more bored than he had been earlier. this didn’t appear to be humanly possible, but it had long been established that andrew minyard wasn't entirely human.

“so, where should we put our stuff?” adam prompted, after another minute of frosted quiet. his virginia drawl slipped out as he spoke, and his face flashed with something inexplicable that blue couldn't quite place. shame, maybe, or embarrassment. no matter how many miles between them, adam still hated the dirt that swirled through his veins, the honey that dripped from his lips. he was every inch of a good ol’ southern boy, and that thought hurt him more than he had ever hurt himself.

something in her heart snapped, just a little, at the sight of all of them. what a mess they were. faint outlines of human people, held together with tape and shadows and scraps of a soul. even though it was silly, and they'd never allow it, sometimes she just wanted to wrap them all up in blankets and hold them, until every shattered piece was whole again. she never spared that same care for herself, but she reminded herself that she didn't need it. it was a lie, of course, but self-deceit was a game blue had mastered over the years. her trauma was long gone, reduced to a faint whisper that slept in the dips of her collarbones, the hollows between her thighs. she could manage. the others couldn’t.

“i see. we’ll bring our things up now, then,” gansey’s annoyingly polite voice replied, to andrew, blue assumed. she hadn't been paying much attention to the conversation, stuck in her own thoughts, like a fly trapped in a spiderweb. andrew shrugged again and turned around, silently walking back into the dorms. henry let out a low whistle as soon as he was gone. “he may be a bastard, but by god, that fucker is hot.”

adam groaned. “henry, i think he'd gut you like a fish if he ever heard you saying that.” noah snorted in agreement, while gansey just put his head in his hands.

“yeah, but he'd be so sexy while doing it. i mean, murder? that's so hot.”

“shut up, shut up, shut up,” blue moaned, gesturing frustratedly with her hands. “i have had enough of this one the drive here. i need to go sit in a dark, quiet room where no comments about men, sexual or otherwise, are made.”

“you are dating a guy,” adam pointed out guilelessly.

“please stop reminding me,” blue said in a long-suffering, beleaguered tone. “just because i'm bisexual doesn't mean i can't hate men.”

“i think that's exactly how it works,” ronan said, with a smirk.

blue groaned and flopped her head on noah’s shoulder. “i'm dating noah now, guys. he’s nice and respectable and doesn't make fun of me, unlike the rest of you fuckers.”

gansey made a wounded noise. “really, jane? i thought you loved me. you made me my own sweater!”

“you never wear it though,” blue argued. “and noah wears the sweaters i make him. because he's a nice person.”

noah just smiled and ran his fingers through blue’s hair, happy to sit back and let them rest of them tease.

“i hate to break up… whatever this is,” a new voice cut in, “but some of us need to unpack, and y'all are right in front of the doors. can you move your cars and your weird conversations inside, or at least to the other end of the parking lot?”

everyone turned, so in-sync it almost looked practiced, to see who was speaking to them. a tall blonde girl was addressing them, somehow impeccably dressed, in a tight cream dress and monstrously high heels. the outfit seemed a bit excessive, but hey, blue’s own outfit choices were a bit outlandish as well, even if they were on the complete opposite end of the fashion continuum.

“whatever,” ronan said, but he walked around the back of the pig to pull out his things. “parrish, come get your shit. i'm not carrying it up for you.” the muscles in his back tensed and pulled along the midnight ridges of his tattoos as he pulled out the suitcases. adam joined him, lightly brushing his fingers over ronan’s in the process. it was supposed to go unnoticed, but blue was very good at seeing what others didn't want her to see. the only time it seemed to backfire was with herself.

“jane!” gansey called out, turning his impossibly bright smile towards her. “help me carry the henrietta model upstairs?”

“you're kidding,” blue said, her eyes wide. “you're fucking kidding me. you seriously didn't bring that with you. ronan, pinch me. tell me this isn't real.”

“oh, it's real,” ronan said. “i was the one that had to share the backseat with it. he fucking put the seatbelt around it. it was disgusting.” the look he shot blue was equal parts irritation and humor. it was a little funny, even if gansey was the most single-minded, obsessed, stupid person she'd ever met.

“you're a hot mess,” she informed him, holding half of the cereal box monstrosity that was his model of henrietta as they slowly walked up the stairs. “a massive, chaotic, ridiculous, hot mess.”

gansey smiled, that sweet, shy smile that he reserved just for her. “at least i'm hot, though. that has to count for something.”

the noise that flew out of her mouth was almost inhuman, frustration and exasperation and just a dash of endearment in a combination that wouldn't seem to work, but did. “i hate you, gansey.”

“i know,” he said, grinning. “i love you too, jane.”

“get a room!” henry yelled from the bottom of the stairs, juggling a strange combination of books, sweaters, and more shoes than a single person should ever own. blue just laughed. they were all such idiots, but they were hers. she loved them all, a little part of her heart reserved for each one. her raven boys. how wonderful and miserable they all were. a messy constellation, bright and broken, but gorgeous all the same. what a gift, to love them, she thought, as the godawful arts and crafts project jostled her every step up the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was going to add this, but leigh convinced me not to, so here's a deleted excerpt from this chapter:  
> "andrew turned around, his ass perky and impeccable in the extremely tight leather pants he wore. in rhinestones over his ass cheeks, the words slut were spelled. henry was proud."  
> you're welcome.


	4. if you thought anyone had their shit together, you were SO wrong

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! sorry this is a little late, it took me a while to figure out how i wanted to write this. it's sort of a filler chapter, to kind of establish characters and their backstories, as i'm deviating from canon a LOT. but i hope this isn't too tedious & you all like it!   
> CW - s*lf h*rm, e*ting disorders, mental illness, drug addiction, r*pe, and ab*se.

richard campbell gansey iii was many things. he was a gifted student, proficient in all classes (excluding latin, because by god, the declensions are hellish). he was a polite and gregarious youth and was always good to bring to parties, like a small dog, or a new purse. he was a talented athlete, even though the vast majority of people didn’t know what exy was, nor did they care. gansey was many things, but first and foremost, he was always just one, simple thing. he was afraid.

it had started out as a simple thing. stress over tests in grade school. fears about driving over tall bridges, or getting in a car accident. nightmares that kept him up late at night. his parents dismissed it, because that’s what you do. there are no skeletons in the closet. no monsters under your bed. there’s nothing wrong with you, dick, his father would say, in the broad and charming way he always did. you just overthink a bit. 

that was all well and good, gansey supposed, when you weren’t unable to focus in school, because your cyclical thoughts weren’t driving heavy grooves into your amygdala, you weren’t having panic attacks in the school bathrooms, and you weren’t hyperventilating after a history final because you think you got number fourteen wrong. and gansey knew, of course. he’d known since the age of twelve, googling “why am i so stressed out” on his ipad. he had generalized anxiety disorder, with a dash of panic disorder, to add some flavor, he’d thought bitterly. but when you’re twelve, even with his cherubim looks and gold-studded smile, you can’t get a diagnosis or medication without an adult. so, gansey managed.

sort of.

he suffered through middle school, did the best to keep his hands from trembling and his stomach from trying to digest itself, and it worked to a certain degree. but high school was a whole different hellscape. it was a private school, and a very competitive one at that, so the stakes were already high. but throwing in a brand new school in a brand new state, combined with gansey’s already crumbling psyche, meant something had to give. and give it did.

it was just a few pills at first. he bought only a couple, enough to hold off the worst of it all. when he was having a really bad panic attack, or when he could barely breathe from the fear. but soon, it was every day. he couldn’t stop, couldn’t get enough, could barely think without them. the withdrawal was almost as bad as the anxiety, cutting off his oxygen and slicing through his nerves. so he kept taking the pills, pumping his body full of xanax and valium, ativan, klonopin, and maybe a drink or too, just to wash it down. 

of course, the castle walls had to crash down eventually. it was just about the perfect day to almost die, really. sunny and warm, the gorgeous kind of may afternoon that was reserved solely for picnics and date nights. not meeting your teenage son in an emergency room, because he accidentally overdosed on alcohol and benzodiazepines. i just couldn’t handle it, he told his parents afterwards, their cold, porcelain faces the very images of concerned parents. it was all too much.

gansey was then shipped off to rehab, and slunk back into henrietta four months later, a considerable lack of “pep” in his step. it was an awful stay, and for all his forthcomings, he never spoke of it. some boundaries were never to be crossed. thankfully, they all respected it. it wasn’t that surprising though, honestly. they had all found each other at their lowest, their worst. it was almost funny to think of it now.

they met in the same spot: the singular and solitary therapist in henrietta. her name was persephone, and she was just about the dictionary definition for “off her fucking rocker”. she was good at her job, but smelling like sage (or weed) and trailing off her sentences to resume her knitting didn’t exactly instill everyone with the same confidence these six had in her. 

henry had gone first, the only one comfortable enough to admit that he needed help. his seondeok cheng was a successful businesswoman, which sadly, did not translate to being a successful mother. she was ruthless in her business deals, and often her son was caught in the crossfire. henry had been kidnapped not once, not twice, but four times, and gained an impressive amount of trauma, claustrophobia, and good humor from the whole experience. he had gone to persephone willingly, because his mother didn’t care where her money was going, and he had enough self-respect to not wait until it was too late.

henry had then convinced the ganseys to send their son there, after rehab. he had vouched for persephone, and had offered to make sure gansey attended his sessions, and gansey’s parents had grudgingly agreed. persephone was the one who gave him his official diagnoses, and helped find him a non-addictive, gentler medication to help with his anxiety. she even knitted him a large sweater, with a stylized “s” on the front. she said it stood for sertraline, the new medication he was on. blue fervently insists it stands for slut.

blue had gone after her teachers had noticed her acting out in grade school. persephone would be good for her, they’d said, because persephone honestly was much more like a kindergarten teacher than a psychologist. she’d gone dutifully to the sessions, but had slowly opened up over the years. persephone was the one who stood by her, holding her hand tight, as blue took her foster families to trial, for neglect, rape, and sexual abuse. blue never mentions it, but she still texts persephone from time to time, even though she’s not a client anymore. 

noah was the next one, after moving in with blue in her sophomore year. blue knew better than anyone the abuse he’d suffered at the hands of his father, and urged him to do something about it. he’d resisted for a while, coming up with every excuse under the sun, moon, and stars, but finally relented. persephone was the one who helped him with his ptsd, and gave him a place to feel safe, even with an adult in the room. every time he looks in the mirror, the dark mottling of his skin no longer ugly to him, he whispers a silent thank you. (everytime he lights a blunt, he does so in honor of persephone, even though ronan persists that it is the stupidest tradition known to man.)

ronan came next. he’d gone through therapists like a kid digging through a candy jar, never able to find exactly the right fit. but he’d moved to henrietta a couple years after his father died, to attend high school, and he found persephone a while later. she helped him channel his anger and hurt into something productive, and sketches now lined the walls, instead of his skin. he maintains that she’s crazy and didn’t do anything to help, but adam noticed the wristbands thrown into persephone’s garbage bin during one of his sessions. ronan had worn those like a second skin. it took persephone about twenty minutes to shift adam to a different topic.

adam was the last to find his way to persephone’s colorful and decorated door. he had long held the belief that he was fine. nothing was wrong. so what, his father beat him until bruises spattered his skin like constellations? so what, he’d been thrown down the front stairs of his trailer so many times that he was deaf in one ear? so what, he’d been living on his own and couldn’t afford food, but it didn’t matter because he finally had some sort of control over his life? so what? ronan didn’t seem to see the (nonexistent) logic here, and not-so-delicately told adam that his choices were therapy or an eating disorder clinic. adam chose therapy. persephone got him hooked on tarot and taught him it was okay to not be in control all the time. he carried the deck she gave him from his first day in therapy to his first day at palmetto.

they were all fragile, scraps of a person held together with string and bones and double-sided tape. they chafed at the edges and bled when they touched. but slowly, they were learning to trust each other. to love in a way that was so much more. noah and blue, with their whispering gazes and soft touches. ronan and henry, with their vicious humor and warming hearts. adam and gansey, who tried so hard not to hurt each other, and failed, but kept trying anyway. they were all so ridiculously new at this, just children figuring things out, that it was almost painful. but they were so desperate for friendship, for safety, all of them. gansey was just so, so worried that palmetto would shatter everything that they’d all tried so hard to build. he knew, objectively, that he was just as screwed up as the lot of them. but he felt a special responsibility. he could handle himself, with his shaking hands and his overzealous synapses. it was easier to keep everyone else steady if he pretended he was steady, too. gansey tried his best.

for kevin day, however, his best wasn’t good enough.


	5. welcome to dr. minyard: the psychoanalysis you never wanted nor needed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay!!! i definitely didn't forget to write a new chapter. anyway, it's here! the next chapter will be extra fun to make up for the wait, i promise!! also again, all the love and appreciation for my wonderful proofreader!!! ily leigh :")

andrew would never admit it, but he adored drama almost as much as he adored neil. which was to say, he fucking loved it. and the new kids on the team were the perfect source. take a bunch of high-strung hicks and throw them into the mix with a sober kevin day, and you've got a recipe for utter disaster. and now, this hypothesis was being proven right in front of his eyes.

it was the first practice of the season, and it was a flaming pile of horse shit.

the freshmen were admittedly good players, but they didn't play well with others, in every sense of the word. they stuck together, and rarely worked with anyone outside of their little group. some would say it was sweet, how much they trusted each other, but to andrew, it was simply cloying. stupid and immature, and entirely unhelpful if you were actually trying to play a game as a team.

sargent was a good goalkeeper, even if she was a bit chatty while playing. but she favored her right side, and passed to noah or gansey most times, even though matt and aaron were much closer. and quite frankly, andrew wasn't sure how she could even see the ball through her thick cloud of hair. she had studded it with neon colored hair clips, and it surrounded her face like a storm cloud. andrew admired her apparent lack of dedication to the sport.

gansey was a decent dealer, but he seemed tense, too anxious, even if it was his first practice. it wasn't regular nerves, however. andrew had spent enough time around neil and kevin to spot a walking list of anxiety disorders when he saw one. he did hope that gansey could hold himself together better than the other two. playing concerned boyfriend and babysitter was getting a bit old, and he wasn't jumping at the chance to get a third child to safeguard.

cheng was, to put it simply, an airhead. he played like he spoke, with no filter or critical thinking. he wasn't bad, per se, but he wasn't good, either. it took andrew a while to spot why exactly wymack had signed him, why this group had formed and swept him in. but watching them, it made perfect sense. he was the anchor, the irritation in the center of the pearl. he pulled them together, encouraged them and lightened the mood, and even aaron seemed to enjoy his quips every once in a while. andrew couldn’t blame him, really. neil had done the same thing with the foxes the previous year, and it worked incredibly well. he just hoped that they could manage the same trick two years in a row.

czerny was interesting. he barely spoke, and when he did, it was to blue or ronan. he avoided henry and adam with almost a practiced distaste, or discomfort, maybe? andrew couldn’t tell. something was palpable between them, and it was painfully clear. noah played with a quiet intensity that drew andrew’s attention, like a moth to a flame. he was calculated and cool, and his movements were perfectly aimed. he was definitely someone to keep an eye out for.

now, parrish and lynch played as if they were participating in an entirely different game. they were vicious, ronan reckless and violent, with barely disguised anger weaving through each blow of his racket. he played like he had a grudge against the ball, the racket, the floors, and his fellow players. ronan played like he had nothing to lose. but adam played like he stood to lose everything. his movements were slow but precise, as he tracked the game with both his body and his eyes. it was his eyes, however, that betrayed his desperation and determination. he needed to win. he was like neil, both proud and foolish, but adam was just a shade different. he was more washed-out, and he spoke with a much softer bite, albeit with harsh venom behind it.

kevin wasn't as interested in the group dynamics as andrew was, and spent his time laying into the team. the senior foxes could take it, but the freshmen already looked like they were crumbling under the pressure. the striker wasn't pulling any punches, and after a while, ronan seemed to have had enough.

“could you stop being a piece of shit for five minutes?” ronan growled after a particularly harsh attack on his recent move. “i know it's hard, with the bitchiness embedded in your dna and all, but shutting your fat mouth for once really should be considered a public service.”

kevin lunged forward, just as dan slid in between them. “come on, y'all,” she said sharply. “it's the first practice. can we at least wait a week before our first fistfight?”

kevin’s face collapsed into something more amiable, while ronan retained his stony glower. adam gave a half-hearted shrug, as if to say he's not mine. aaron just rolled his eyes, retreating back to his position to run another play. 

andrew shot neil a look, a harsh tilt to his head that signaled a future conversation. neil just nodded simply, eyes cool and calm, locked onto andrew’s. he had never seen the appeal of blue eyes, really. too pale and faint to be all that interesting. but neil’s eyes were different, somehow. they were like a whirlpool, emotion and thought churning in their icy depths. it was fascinating and disorienting, and andrew could get lost in them if he wasn't careful. 

now was a lovely example.

“minyard,” kevin’s voice cut swiftly through his thoughts. “we’re done. didn't realize you would stay on the court any longer than you had to.”

andrew just shot him a cold look and turned around, making his way to the locker rooms to change and shower. if there was one redeeming quality about the freshmen, it was that they took quick showers and didn't use up all the hot water, unlike someone (matt).

♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛

“we’re taking parrish and lynch to columbia with us on friday.” 

neil didn't respond, savoring the scent of the cigarette smoke that curled out of his lips. after a moment, he sighed, and then turned to andrew. “they're not threats.”

“we don't know that,” andrew answered with an air of delicately practiced nonchalance. “we don't know anything about them. that's why i want to take them with us.”

“fine,” neil said, a bit of tension in his voice. “but we're not drugging them.”

andrew raised an eyebrow, stark blond hair turning rosy with the setting sun. “how do you expect me to get anything out of them, if they're sober?”

“get them tipsy, wasted, whatever. get them drunk. but you're not slipping them anything without them knowing.” neil directed a look in andrew’s direction, something wary and jagged. he took another drag of his cigarette and added, with a voice just tender enough to get under andrew’s skin, “riko’s gone. they can't hurt us anymore.”

andrew scoffed. “you're delusional, josten, and going soft.” he didn't have to say anything to let neil know that he had conceded.

neil just hummed, a soft smile wavering its way over his lips. he stuffed his hands in his pockets and jerked his shoulder towards the door. “c’mon, it's getting cold.”

andrew rolled his eyes dramatically, but nevertheless, stubbed out his cigarette and followed neil back inside. 

this year was certainly going to be interesting. last year, they'd gotten a new student, and he’d almost torn the team apart. but the ripped edges left behind had formed something cohesive, almost a family (though andrew hates to admit it) stitched together with bright orange polyester and an excessive amount of bandages. they were still learning, still growing together, trying to find out where each other's boundaries stopped and started. but this new group could either pull them even closer together, or destroy this bright and wonderful thing that had taken so long to build. everything was fragile, and andrew hoped dearly that the freshmen wouldn't fuck it all up.


	6. say goodbye to pynch! andrew's about to murder them :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is unedited and was mostly written at 3 am so... if there are any mistakes please PLEASE let me know!! but otherwise, enjoy!!

adam was sick of palmetto. it was hell, really. no one on the team really liked him, first of all. he wasn't polished like gansey, with his sweet-tea and tobacco laced virginia drawl. henry had a shining personality that drew people to him like bees to young flowers, bursting with nectar and growth. blue was kind, and even if she wasn't as gregarious as henry, she had a soft air around her that pulled you in. (adam knew this, because he'd witnessed it firsthand.) noah was quiet and serene, and seemed to find a kindred spirit in aaron. the two never left each other’s side, for reasons adam couldn't quite explain. and ronan’s barbed wire attitude didn't leave space for newcomers, but ronan didn't care if they liked him. he didn't want it. not like adam did.

he needed it so badly, it was like oxygen for him. he would let his mind wander sometimes, and he could physically feel the want. it crawled into his veins and took root, like an invasive vine bearing deadly fruit. he didn't know why, honestly. he was fine on his own. he'd grown up by himself and raised himself, kissed his own bruises and later, bandaged his own wounds. he was nothing if he wasn't independent. aloneness seemed to be adam parrish’s default setting. but even if he was used to it, you could rely on him to lie awake, wasting the precious hours of sleep he managed to wedge in between work and school, and just think, silently obsessing over his state of abject social disarray.

it was exhausting, sometimes, being him. he slipped into one job after another, sleepless nights spinning into blurry days, until he finally broke down and called in sick. until blue showed up at his apartment with a box of tea and his favorite sweatshirt of hers. until she sat him down on the couch, and they curled up to watch marvel movies, because “they may be sexist, but scarlet witch is hot as fuck,” and because while he’d never admit it, adam needed a break. and blue knew it, and she knew him well enough not to say it. she would always make up excuses. say that she missed him (which was true), or she was on her period (which was not true). she needed to study marvel films for english, she left a sock at his apartment and needed it back. it was always more outlandish and ridiculous than the last. and it was why he loved her. they understood each other, in that quiet and gentle way.

it was the only way adam knew to be gentle. everything else about him was harsh. he was a shoddy replica of a person, just badly bent cartilage and shredded skin that would flake away at the bone. adam was built on trailer trash trauma and those sharp, rough edges that you couldn't sand down. he was unfixable, unknowable. the foxes couldn't break down his walls, no matter how hard they tried. they'd been up for so long that adam didn't know if they could ever be breached. so he was a little surprised when andrew cornered him after a particularly bad practice.

“meet me outside the dorms at nine. bring lynch. we’re going out.” it wasn't a question, or a request. it was a demand, and it was the boldness of it, the absolute desiccation of any argument, that made adam flinch. it felt like cheap plastic and yellowed grass. it felt like home, like everything he was trying so hard to get away from. bile rose in his stomach, and he swallowed harshly. 

“i don’t do clubs,” he said after a minute's pause, “and i'm busy tonight.”

andrew fixed him with a cold look. “clear out your calendar. you're coming. it's team bonding.” he turned to walk away, then paused. “bring the rest of your little gang, if you want.”

adam just watched quietly as andrew walked away, unnerved and quite unsure of what mess he'd gotten himself into. protesting further wouldn't do much good, with andrew being… well, andrew. but at least he could ask ronan to come with him, and the others. if he was lucky, he wouldn't have to talk the entire time.

with a sigh, he headed into the locker room. worrying wouldn't do any good. he'd talk to everyone tonight about it. the only thing he could do right now was drown himself in the shower, but that didn't seem to be a good plan. for one, blue would kill him. two, ronan would be pissed. and third, and most importantly, blue would kill him. so he settled for taking a non-lethal, steamy shower, and letting his stress and soreness dissolve in the heavy heat.

♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛♛

sliding into the room he shared with ronan and aaron, he found ronan already waiting for him. his dark boots were propped up on the pale wood desk, and his dark eyes that brightened, ever so slightly, when he caught sight of adam. he held out his hand, a rare display of public affection. adam took it, and sat on the floor next to ronan’s chair. not knowing how to delicately introduce the subject, he cut to the chase. “andrew wants us to go out with him tonight.”

ronan raised an eyebrow, sharp enough to cut. “why? is he planning on murdering us so we don't start trouble? do you have any ties to organized crime i should know about?”

adam rolled his eyes, but a spark of fondness curled and danced in his chest. “i don’t know, lynch. he just told me to come, and to tell you. he said we can bring the others if we want.”

“gansey’d be about as much fun at a club as a wet sock,” ronan scoffed. “ask sargent. noah’s off studying, and cheng’s probably busy doing some weird shit.”

adam stood, ruffling ronan’s buzzed hair gently. “i’ll tell him you said that. and you’d better be ready by nine.”

“whatever,” ronan shot back, but adam knew by now when he was truly being vicious and when he was just being ronan. with a snort, he walked across the hall to the girls’ room and knocked softly. 

allison opened the door, narrowing a pair of violently green eyes at him. “what do you want?”

“can i come in for a minute, to talk to blue?”

she eyed him for another moment, then opened the door a bit too roughly. “be nice. we like her. if you're a dick, dan’ll beat you up.”

“she's right!” dan chimed in from across the room. she was in the kitchen, whipping up something that involved… avocados and mango yogurt? adam wasn't sure, but he definitely didn't want to try it. renee was reading in a small chair by the window, and waved a small hello.

blue was scrunched into the edge of the couch, multicolored yarn pooling around her, and snorted. “don’t worry. adam’s just about harmless.”

adam just offered a weary half-smile. “whatever, blue. anyway, andrew wants us to go out with him tonight. you want to come?”

before blue could answer, dan interjected, her voice heavy as steel and twice as sharp. “he wants you to do what? absolutely not. the last kid who went out with him had to hitchhike back.” she dropped her concoction angrily on the counter. “you're not going.”

“neil will be there,” renee offered. “so will kevin, nicky, and aaron. they'll be able to keep andrew in check.”

allison rolled her eyes. “babe, no one can keep the monsters in check. i love you, but you’re delusional.”

renee just smiled. “don't worry. they'll be okay. it's not just one person, there's three of them. they can hold their own.”

dan sighed, but didn't push any further. she just shot adam and blue a concerned look. “be careful. andrew can get wild. don't do anything that makes you uncomfortable, and call me if you need anything.”

the two exchanged confused looks, but no one offered any clarification on the subject, so they let it drop.

“what time are we leaving?” blue asked, still concentrating on her strange knitted hat-sock-sweater monstrosity.

adam ruffled her hair, a ritual of habit, and stole a hair clip, pinning it to his own short waves. “nine. and wear something weird, so ronan has something to talk about.”

blue punched him in the side. “go away,” she groaned. “i don’t even know why i'm friends with you.”

adam just smiled, a subtle half-tilt of his thin lips, and headed for the door, with a quick wave to the other girls in the dorm.

while he didn't know exactly what andrew wanted with them, adam knew this evening was certainly going to be interesting. that is, if they all made it out in one piece. and with ronan involved, that seemed highly unlikely.


End file.
